“No. I believe he’s at the stables, miss.”
“How do I get there?”
Grizwold hesitated. “The route is a bit confusing,” he began with a trace of uncertainty. “I have other duties that require my immediate attention, or I would be happy to show you the way. Perhaps it would be best if you waited out front. His Lordship will be bringing the horses there directly.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.” Laura continued to the front door and stepped into the sharp spring morning. It was the first time she had ventured outside since their arrival. She ran a glance over the ocher-colored walls of the massive country manor.
It hadn’t been that many years ago when her own house, The Homestead, had undergone a major restoration and renovation that had encompassed everything from replacing weakened support timbers and old electrical wiring to a new plumbing and heating system, as well as the addition of two new wings. At the time, her mother had remarked, “I swear it costs more to fix an old house than it does to build a new one. We would have been dollars ahead if we’d torn it down and started from scratch.”
By nature, her family was conservative. It was a trait that had rubbed off on Laura, enabling her to understand Sebastian’s situation, both current and future. But understanding changed nothing.
The rhythmic cadence of trotting hooves on brick pavement echoed through the morning air. Laura turned toward the sound as Sebastian rounded the corner, astride a big, bald-faced bay and leading an iron gray hunter. He flashed her that familiar lazy smile, and her reaction to him was the same as it had always been—a quickening of her pulse and a thrilling of her nerve ends.
He slowed both horses to a walk and halted near her. “This is unexpected. I thought I might have to pry you away from your morning coffee.”
“You thought wrong,” Laura informed him with a saucy look and stepped to the head of the gray horse. “This is a beautiful boy.” The horse buried its velvety nose in her hand and nuzzled her open palm. “Is he for me?”
“He is,” Sebastian confirmed. “Since you are from the West, I took you at your word that you’re a skilled horsewoman.”
“I am. If you can put a saddle on it, I can ride it,” Laura stated without an ounce of brag. “What’s his name?”
“Hannibal.” He passed the gray’s reins to Laura and started to swing out of his saddle. “I’ll give you a leg up.”
“I can manage.” For reasons of her own, Laura wanted to avoid any physical contact with him just now. With the reins looped over the gray’s neck, she grabbed hold of the flat English saddle and stretched a toe into the iron stirrup and pulled herself onto the saddle.
“I had to guess at the stirrup length,” Sebastian warned.
“It’s almost right,” she said and went to work shortening the stirrups by one more notch. “That’s the advantage of an English saddle over a western one—it’s easy to change from the saddle.”
“All set?” he asked when she had finished.
“Ready and eager, I’d say,” Laura replied as the gelding shifted restlessly under her and pushed at the bit.
Sebastian pointed his horse down the lane and set off. With reluctance, Laura’s mount settled into a collected trot alongside him. A short distance from the house, Sebastian swung his horse between two trees. A pasture stretched before them, an open invitation for a gallop. Neither horse required urging.
There was a sense of rightness to the steady drum of hooves, the whip of the wind in her face, and the feel of a horse beneath her that soothed and invigorated both at the same time. Used to the limitless expanse of the Calder range, Laura looked with regret at the low stone wall that marked the pasture boundary. She followed suit when Sebastian checked his mount to a canter.
“Want to jump the wall?” His eyes sparkled with an unspoken dare.
“Do birds fly?” She shot a laughing smile his direction and sent her horse toward the wall.
Its gray ears pricked forward, signaling its awareness of the obstacle before them. Laura readied the gelding for the jump, felt the gathering of its haunches and the adrenaline rush that came when they took to the air, sailing over the low wall. They landed well clear and galloped on.
Within seconds, she heard the pounding hooves of Sebastian’s horse behind her. When he drew level with her, he signaled for Laura to follow him. They galloped across another pasture, jumped a brook and a wide gate, and arrived at a narrow country road, empty of traffic. Both reined their horses down to a walk.
“I needed that,” Laura declared and released a contented sigh.
“I thought you might.” His glance made an assessing study of her, noting the flush of excitement that gave a glow to her face. “You looked a bit distracted earlier, as if you’d hit a spot of heavy weather.”
“I’m never at my best first thing in the morning,” Laura said, deliberately making light of his observation.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” The hint of intimacy in his twinkling eyes had its usual disturbing effect on her. But along with the sensual rush she experienced, there was also a pang that was anything but normal for her.
Other than allowing a small smile to play across her lips, Laura made no reply to his comment and focused instead on the cottage that fronted the road just ahead of him. A milk cow emerged from a shedlike structure next to it, followed by an older gentleman in boots and work clothes.
“Good morning, Mr. Frohme,” Sebastian greeted him. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Indeed it is, sir,” the man boomed, his glance sliding curiously to Laura. “Certainly a fine one to be taking your lady for a ride.”